The Nine Realms

Poems and Writing inspired by the Norse realm of Nifelheim (The Realm of the Dead

Featuring:

Jim C Mackintosh, Eleanor Perry

and Tom Murphy

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The Signal Keeps Breaking

by Jim C. Mackintosh

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I am trying to phone you from the most hellish place there’s ever been with the worst phone signal ever.

It has taken nine days to get here but all the things I gave up to get here will not buy me a fare for the nine days back.

There are so many things wrong with this place, I am not sure what to describe, or whether I should even try.

I will try texting you, that way, you will have a record of this vile land but it is no land I have dreamt of

or woken in the cold sweat of night fearing my destiny. And should I not return, I pray you will read my words.

There are so many people, dead people some dying, or not but still wandering stumbling in the sludge of putrid pools

pools that lap the edge of a cauldron its crusted rim catching the unaware pulling them into a depth I can only fear.

I tried to save an old man, grabbing his coat but he was beyond the depths my shallow cowardice would allow me to wade.

There is no sun, yet there is light enough to pick out the pain, the shadows of scars and marks across the strands of shore

where the keel marks of the dead, dragged by their souls, lead to a dragon’s bowl nestled on the bleach of suppers past.

There is no time, but there is order in this terrible chaos. Despite the mists that catch your throat like heated flints

tossed into the air by the sadness of children, seemingly lost, wandering with their blankets of belongings.

I have tried speaking to them but they stare through me except one attracted by the light of the phone

grabbed at it but when I pushed him away, he dissolved into a puddle leaving only rags and a scatter of baubles.

The other children, at least I imagine them to be children, did nothing but pick up the dissolved one’s rags and walk away

towards the dark mass of a tower, ice-cold like a frozen heart, an island of infinity drawing me towards its gate.

Down an impossible path, beaten like a flattened vein, exhausted under the burden of its purpose.

I can’t see beyond the gate but I must go beyond the daubed sign ‘Hel’ I must not falter in my step, my courage.

Through the briar, and soft ash of unspoken voices caught, discarded in the unsettled mounds by the path

to an uncertain fate. I am weak yet my resolve is strong, to face the dark beyond the buttressed edge of Hel.

I will leave these words, this dying signal with a child, to keep safe from the poisoned mists that force me –

the signal keeps breaking –

I am entering Hel, alone –

breaking –

me

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5. whorf hypothesis

insect noon, and this, the wishing element | we softly saw ruin | the other wolf moon in the mouth | and it seemed a lot of hurt | star meat sunk deep in neon sock- ets | spoon-tapped atoms like those sea lilies which drag themselves | in polished glass | since water is a human learning | and the road hums so thick | we would lung this tired space | even in obscene echoes | and the words went light like bones | blue robot vague.

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Part 5

Nifelheim

by Tom Murphy

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galloping up the hill

knuckles knotted in the mane

Draumur leaping through the waves of grass

as if surging through salt foam sea

each of these a spell

a telling of path

the three moments

embracing under the waterfall

sitting in the dark cave of mist

floating on the milk blue pond

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the idea of north

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You can read the overview of Nifelheim here , and see some Nidavellir poemshere

To get involved contact us via any of the comments boxes on our posts/pages or @ArtiPeeps. You would be very welcome!

Vikings Ahoy! It’s The Nine Realms!

ONGOING EPICS

THE NINE REALMS (2014-2015):
Watch this space for our next 9-month large-scale collaborative project ! Starting in the 2nd Week of October 2014. Inspired by the Norse Sagas and Norse Cosmology, Giving creative opportunities to nearly 50 creatives. We'll be combining poetry, prose, art, music and sculpting a Viking boat out of ash, Vikings Ahoy!!!

The Nine Realms Poetry Playlist

The Nine Realms Realm Music

PAST EPIC COLLABORATIONS

TRANSFORMATIONS (2013-2014)

A POETRY AND ART EPIC:

31 Creatives from all around the world and the UK showcased through 1 Contemporary Reworking of Ovid's Metamorphoses.

Making the virtual real via a poetry-art exhibition held at Hanse House, Norfolk, 12-14th September 2014,

The launch of our large-scale exhibition template to be used to give creatives from all disciplines collaborative opportunities year on year.

Wisdom & Mindfulness

ArtiPeeps Videos On Vimeo

Osho: From The Book of Understanding

EXPRESS YOURSELF IN AS MANY WAYS AS POSSIBLE WITHOUT FEAR.THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR.THERE IS NOBODY WHO IS GOING TO PUNISH OR REWARD YOU. EXPRESS YOUR BEING IN ITS TRUEST FORM, IN ITS NATURAL FLOW, YOU WILL BE REWARDED IMMEDIATELY, NOT TOMORROW BUT TODAY, HERE & NOW. YOU ARE PUNISHED ONLY WHEN YOU GO AGAINST YOUR NATURE. BUT THE PUNISHMENT IS A HELP. IT IS SIMPLY AN INDICATION THAT YOU HAVE MOVED AWAY FROM NATURE, THAT YOU HAVE GONE A LITTLE ASTRAY-OFF THE ROAD-COME BACK. PUNISHMENT IS NO REVENGE.NO, PUNISHMENT IS ONLY AN EFFORT TO WAKE YOU UP: 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?' . SOMETHING IS WRONG, SOMETHING IS GOING AGAINST YOURSELF. THAT'S WHY THERE IS PAIN, THERE IS ANXIETY.

EVOLUTION IS INTRINSIC TO MAN'S NATURE, EVOLUTION IS HIS VERY SOUL, AND THOSE WHO TAKE THEMSELVES FOR GRANTED REMAIN UNFULFILLED. THOSE WHO THINK THEY ARE BORN COMPLETE REMAIN UNEVOLVED. THEN THE SEED REMAINS THE SEED. IT NEVER BECOMES A TREE AND NEVER KNOWS THE JOYS OF SPRING AND THE SUNSHINE AND THE RAIN AND THE ECSTASY OF BURSTING INTO MILLIONS OF FLOWERS.